Lenny and Arthur stood in the void. The shadows surged forward as Lenny's expression hardened into something dangerous. Arthur's heart hammered against his ribs. He had just woken up, and now—now they had fallen asleep again. He had prayed he wouldn't return to the void, yet here he was, trapped once more in this endless darkness. This time, Lenny offered no warmth, no reassurance, no gentle guidance. This was a training session, Arthur realized with growing apprehension, as Lenny stepped forward. Despite her small, seven-year-old body, she radiated magic so intensely that the air itself hummed with power, making his skin prickle.
Then something impossible happened.
A crack of light split the void open, spewing brilliant beams across the darkness like lightning frozen in place. Another crack appeared, then another, splintering across the endless expanse with sharp, crystalline sounds. Lenny stopped mid-stride. The shadows froze mid-formation, nearly weapons but not quite, suspended in the air like dark sculptures. Everything—including Arthur himself—halted. Fear and confusion gripped him as his mind raced through possibilities.
A man stepped out of one of the cracks of light, moving with casual confidence. The fractures sealed behind him, leaving the void whole once more, as if reality itself had stitched back together. He stood tall, a glowing white sword strapped to his back that pulsed with its own heartbeat. His black hair contrasted sharply with his pristine white clothing, and his blade radiated with such intense luminescence that Arthur had to squint, raising one hand to shield his eyes. Both Lenny and Arthur stared in shock as the man stepped forward casually, as if he'd simply walked through a door rather than torn reality apart.
"Did I interrupt something?" he asked, his tone light and almost apologetic. "My bad. I just got tired of the void, you know? When I tried to escape, this is where I ended up." He spread his hands in a gesture of innocence.
Arthur stood frozen, barely breathing. He didn't want to draw attention to himself. Lenny remained equally quiet, her eyes narrowed with suspicion, her small hands clenched into fists at her sides.
The man raised his hand in a friendly wave. "Are you mute? Can you guys just, like, not speak or something?" He paused, finally taking in his surroundings with more attention. His expression shifted from casual to curious. "Wait a minute. Seems like both of you were fighting."
Lenny finally stepped forward, squaring her shoulders. "I'm just trying to train him," she said, her voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air. "Anyone who enters my home needs to be trained." There was a protective edge to her words that surprised Arthur.
"This is your home?" the man said, raising an eyebrow in genuine surprise.
"Look, to be honest with you, I came here to see my brother," he added, scratching the back of his head.
"Your brother?" Arthur finally spoke up, his voice hoarse from disuse and shock.
"Yeah. I'm the ruler of the White Void, so I'm assuming my brother is here too, in this dark, desolate landscape." He gestured around them with a sweeping motion. "I mean, technically, I don't have a white void—I have decorations—but yeah, it's still pretty bland."
Both of them stood shocked, overwhelmed by the flood of information washing over them. Lenny had simply wanted to train Arthur, to test how strong the kid was, to see what potential lay dormant within him. She hadn't expected this interruption, this cosmic intrusion. She'd masked her face with seriousness to avoid looking foolish during the session, but now everything felt surreal, like a dream slipping sideways into nightmare.
"Brother, you here?" the man called out, his voice echoing strangely in the void.
The void began to shift, rippling like disturbed water. Another man materialized from the darkness itself—pitch-black hair, an expressionless face that revealed nothing, and clothing as dark as the void itself. Two swords hung in his hands, their blades absorbing light rather than reflecting it, creating patches of deeper darkness.
"There you are," the first man said, his tone warming slightly with genuine affection. "Why didn't you answer my call?"
Blaze stood motionless, his black swords pulsing faintly with an inner rhythm. "I didn't know you wanted me here. When you called the first time, I didn't hear you. The second time, I heard you clearly, so I decided to come." He paused, his gaze sweeping across the void with methodical precision. "Oh. What's this?"
His eyes settled on Arthur and Lenny with unsettling intensity. "Arthur. Lenny. Nice to finally meet you both. I've been watching you," he said.
Arthur's stomach twisted into knots. Watching them? For how long?
Blaze continued, his voice calm and measured, as if recounting a mildly interesting story. "Yes, Lenny, Arthur came first. Unfortunately, he left extremely quickly because I wasn't used to having company in my space. I made him leave—spit him out into another world. But he reappeared somehow, so I made him leave again." He tilted his head thoughtfully, like a scholar puzzling over an equation. "Three years passed. He appeared a third time, but this time I decided to bring him in properly. I didn't appear to him because, well, I couldn't. Something was blocking me. This is my space, so how could something block me?" A note of genuine confusion entered his voice.
Arthur felt a chill run through him, raising goosebumps along his arms. Something had been blocking Blaze? In his own domain? What kind of power could do that?
"When Lenny finally came, he looked strong, so I let him stay. I hadn't seen company—real company—in ages. Centuries, perhaps," Blaze went on. A hint of loneliness flickered across his expressionless face. "Then Arthur came back. He talked with Lenny. I didn't intervene, of course. You know me—I hate eavesdropping on people's conversations, especially interfering with them. I prefer to stay silent, to observe." He smiled faintly, the expression almost human. "When Lenny proposed training the boy, I gave him a little bit of the void's power. Honestly, entertainment is hard to come by in eternity. But now that you've shown up, brother, plans have been altered. Do you mind, you know, leaving? Go back to your realm so we can have our little training session. Hopefully, these two will pretend you never existed."
Michael shrugged with easy acceptance. "Sure. Didn't mean to crash the party." He walked back into one of the bright cracks, which hadn't yet disappeared, and faded away in a blinding spray of light that left afterimages dancing in Arthur's vision.
"All right," Blaze said, stepping back a few feet and settling into a more relaxed posture. "I'll just be standing over here. Now continue like nothing happened. Continue your training."
But how could they? Arthur's mind reeled, struggling to process everything that had just occurred. The session had been interrupted so abruptly that everything felt awkward now, the momentum completely shattered. Lenny stood still for a long moment, then turned around and dropped the shadowy weapons she'd been forming. They dissolved into wisps of darkness that faded into the void.
"I'll train you when you enter the void again. But for now, I'll just continue working out, I guess," she said quietly, exhaustion evident in her voice. The disappointment in her tone was palpable.
"Blaze," Lenny said, her voice carrying a note of frustration mixed with something else—perhaps hurt.
Blaze smiled, raising one of his swords in acknowledgment. "Second guest."
Lenny glared at him, her jaw tightening. "I've been called 'second guest' before, from an unnatural voice that hung in the void." She crossed her arms defensively. "You didn't show your body, but at least you spoke to me. Not very often, but at least once or twice." There was an accusation buried in those words, a complaint about isolation and loneliness.
A portal opened behind Arthur, swirling with dark energy. He stepped through it, his thoughts spinning in chaotic circles. What in the world did I get myself into? But in a way, he hadn't gotten himself into anything. He'd had no choice in any of this. All of this had been set in stone before he was even born. He couldn't avoid any of the outcomes that had unfolded, couldn't change the path that had been laid before him.
He opened his eyes. He was on the couch, his body stiff from the awkward position. It was nearly dawn, the first hints of gray light seeping through the windows.
Arthur stood up from the couch, his muscles protesting, and went to get himself some water. The sun had recently poked through the horizon, and full daylight was about to break over the world. He quickly filled a glass with water and drank it down in long gulps, the cold liquid sliding down his throat and sending refreshing shocks through his tired body, quickly waking him up. His mind felt clearer now, more focused.
I guess I'll just train, he thought, setting down the empty glass. I have nothing else better to do. Besides, after everything that had happened in the void, he needed to be stronger. He needed to understand the power that had been given to him.
Arthur began to train with his magic outside, drawing on the energy that now flowed through him. As he practiced, someone across the street watched him. The figure stood motionless, staring with an intensity that made Arthur's skin crawl. They blinked once or twice but continued to stare, unmoving.
The man walked forward, crossing the street with deliberate steps, and began to approach Arthur directly. Arthur felt danger rising in his chest like a wave—a primal instinct screaming that he needed to run. The dread was overwhelming, suffocating, pressing down on him like a physical weight. His hands trembled slightly.
Arthur glanced at the house behind him, then back at the approaching man. His heart hammered against his ribs. The stranger's eyes glowed faintly in the early morning light—an unnatural amber that didn't belong to any human. Recognition struck Arthur like a lightning bolt. He'd seen those eyes before. In the void. In his nightmares.
The man smiled, revealing teeth that were just slightly too sharp.
"Hello, Arthur," the stranger said, his voice carrying across the distance with impossible clarity. "We have so much to discuss about your father."
Arthur's blood turned to ice. His father? The void's power surged unbidden through his veins, responding to his terror, crackling around his fingertips in dark tendrils. But the man didn't stop walking. Didn't even slow down.
And behind him, the morning shadows began to move.
Arthur spun around and saw nothing—not because the shadows weren't moving, but because they moved beyond human perception. Magic-infused eyes made no difference. The shadows existed in a realm between sight and blindness, invisible even to those who wielded power.
The man drew closer. Arthur ran into his house and slammed the door, locking it with shaking hands. But the shadows seeped through the walls like water through cracks, pooling in the corners, spreading across the ceiling. They began to chase him, flowing through every room, cutting off escape routes.
Then they began to whisper.
To Arthur, the voices seemed to come from nowhere—disembodied, echoing inside his skull. But in reality, they emanated from the shadows bundled against his walls, pressing closer with each passing second.
"Come with us, child," they hissed in unison, their voices layered and ancient. "Come with us, void child. Come with us, forsaken child."
The whispers grew louder, more insistent, drowning out his thoughts. Arthur backed against the far wall, his magic flaring wildly around him in desperate defense. The shadows reached for him with tendrils of pure darkness.
Outside, the man with amber eyes stood at the door, his hand resting on the handle.
"Your father made a bargain, Arthur," he called through the wood, his voice perfectly clear despite the barrier. "And now it's time to collect."
The door began to dissolve, eaten away by creeping shadow.
Arthur screamed.